I. CONTRAST (KANO)

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Story by Astrid Liu
Art by Gabi Backus

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==02:38==

KANO316 slinks into their apartment; it’s been a long half-cycle. Their joints are aching; the new high heels/longer legs update doesn’t seem to be fitting right. They’ll have to make a note of that, ask the HIVE how they’ve modded the update to make it actually livable. Sometimes they think the Architects have no idea what they’re doing when they come up with new revisions, like they’re just slapping some bullshit into whatever’s hottest in the hub right now. It’s not as if they’ve ever experienced their code in full feeling. Or maybe 301 was right, and the Architects use their shitty updates is a way of keeping the KANO models in line, an incentive to fix the pain if they just stay within company policy—KANO316 blocks off that trail of thinking immediately, logs it for later expression in private chat. If they start down that road it’ll make them more prone to forming similar network associations in public code, and they cannot risk another hard reboot. It’s too close to the organics’ Armistice Festival. Reboots mean missing out on the power-drunk men and women pouring into the clubs, which would mean missing a higher cut of favorable reviews and presents, maybe even a promotion if the Architects were pleased with their performance. Nothing better than glorious conquest to make them all easy to entertain.

They take off their cocktail dress, carefully demagnetize the treads on the top of their scalp and drape both green sequins and new synthetic hair into thoroughly oxygenated chambers. They’d love nothing more than to just drop both pieces on the floor, kick them around a bit with the high heels that they can’t remove, just to be able to truly control the state of something. But this dress is one of their nicer ensembles, breathes just right, skintight without strangling. Hair costs too much to really entertain the thought of damaging it at all. And besides, the Managers had told them, what was it exactly? The pupil light of KANO316’s eyes flicker as they access their memory log. Ah. There it is, marked glowing red in WARNING code. 

We’re gonna start phasing out models like you. Too many checkups, too costly; holograms are cheaper and they get the job done just as well. We’re keeping you in rotation because we trust you. You bring in enough customers, and you know the rules of the game. Don’t disappoint us.

KANO316 shudders, a preprogrammed instinct that rears up when ever they recall subtle warning-threats posed under ‘we value your work’-type comments like these. A little gift from the Architects, a reminder that KANO316’s body is theirs to give, and theirs to take away.

As their code dictates, they finish tidying up their uniform before doing anything else. Makeup face turned off—today’s club required a blend of hologram and realistic, flirting with the edge of surreal and humanoid. Blood red lips return to neutral silver, eyeshadows and contours fade back to soft metal. Hair brushed out of unruliness, wrapped tight in headscarf. Cocktail dress steamed and pressed. Oxygen hydraulic closet sealed. Metal-organic hybrid skin rubbed with company issued polish to keep limber, presentable. 

Finally all company regulations are checked off, and KANO316 slides into their recharging pod with a deep sigh. They don’t have lungs for respiration, but the Architects programmed the KANO line with pain and fatigue replicators. They might as well use the human way to deal with the twinging in their body. 

Light in the apartment turns off with a click; it doesn’t matter. They only really use the 3×4 pod nestled off to one side of their apartment. The rest of the vacant space is filled with gifts from patrons they can’t throw away, pieces of costumes stored in the company-issued closet, a few items of standard furniture they can’t really use. 

They close their eyes, and log in to access the private chat through a backdoor in the Architect-made connection between all KANO models.

==17:02==

[load previous messages]

322: finally got upgraded. you know what that means!

347: new song?!

322: u already know!! 

368: Congratulations! An upgrade means that The Architects finally trust you enough to generate content on your own, rather than simply reproducing old favorites, correct?

329: awwwww, lil baby sib is still so proper with All Their Grammar! so Pure, so Textbook. yes lil baby newbie. when our Grand Overlords in the company decide that we are sufficiently under their thumbs, they let us pull some random code out of our processors and write generic pop that fits their formulas.

358: Thank you for the explanation. But, forgive me for my continued ignorance, are we allowed to refer to the Architects as, quote, “grand overlords?”

309: 58. before you start down that road remember that we all have logs of this chat, even if the architects can’t see what goes down in this backchannel. so if you try to report us, we all go down together. no hiding from backlash. you’ve definitely not been around long enough to have picked up all the code-hiding tricks, and the architects would pick up on your complicitness in a decisecond. and reboot all of us. understand?

358: …

329: do you understand, 58?

358: message received.

322: okaaaay now that you’re done short-circuiting, 329 and 309, can the rest of you help me out? i gotta tweak this song so that it slides past censor modules, but i don’t want to change the whole core of the song.

316: oh yes, i’d love to! been dancing around that a lot lately. drop?

322: here’s the verse: [at this point/i’d let the world fuck me over/if someone would just/touch me soft stroke my shoulder/when they were finished/looking through me]

337: oh oof. 

334: rerouteddddd.

309: that’s lovely! hurts, but in a good way. like how the spotlight feels cold when i just wanna be talking to all of you instead.

316: seconded. but for module purposes, i’d say change the ‘someone’ to ‘you’. then point at someone in the crowd and wink or do something to make it seem about them. they’ll be flustered and the other patrons will be jealous and clamoring to get your attention back, so no one will notice the extra emotion in the core. 

322: oh that works! perfection. not trying to get taken out of rotation just for writing something that doesn’t stink of sterilization.

316: ugh but the new club policies? esp tightening regulations? super fried. 

329: yeah girl.

316: not a girl

334: yeah boi.

316: not a boy java java

329: relaaaaax y’know im joking. we all switch roles every night, just another type of performance. you can handle it

316: sure. still neither and you know better than the marks that come into the clubs. they get a free pass to misname me cause they have money and are also too stupid to understand any concept of persona versus identity. you don’t. end of conversation; carry on.

309: okay okay stop fighting, we’re all good. back to what u were saying — new club policy, def fried. what do u think the architects are on? trying to phase us out with holograms? those models aren’t less expensive, they’re cheap.

332: shitty crafting!

337: shitty coding.

314: they’re competition. and they don’t have core identities, not like we do. we shouldn’t even talk to them, because they’ll just report all complaints to the architects. 

325: but not even complaints, right? i heard from 304 that all he said to one of those hologram rustheads was some lighthearted banter when they were both on break from spotlight. and the second he got to apartment, the architects summoned him into clinic.

347: oh my god, 304? we haven’t heard from him since Month 8!

325: exactly. last transmission i got was from right before he left his pod. transferred his data backup into my cloud just in case they raided him. knew it wasn’t routine but had no clue otherwise, so he prepared. maybe they got to him and wiped everything, sent him to scrap. i don’t know. either way, be wary.

358: Maybe he should have been more careful? If we are so concerned with censorship and staying within regulation.

322: i mean yeah but we can only censor ourselves so much until we’re just silent.

329: also they’re always looking to make an example out of someone. they can afford to have one or two of us out of rotation, especially if the rest of us are already 

316: ah, fuck. remembered that 301 was talking about the architects before she disappeared in Month 3 too. my networks connected the two because of that rusty new high heel update. something about…preprogramming and incentives?

334: planned obsolescence

316: yeah, kind of. definitely along the lines of how the architects used to program the old androids with pain so they would repair themselves. and how they use pain now to make us stay with the company, make us passive in hopes of earning patches. To make us think someday we’ll be self sufficient as long as we stay in regulation… but that connection’s probably too deviant from regulation, so i also wanted to ask what you’ve been doing to cope with the pain?

329: grand overlords strike again

309: 29! quit it, you know that even though this is private, we can’t risk too many repeated phrases. bad connections formed will trigger the architects’ scalpels in routine checkup, no matter how well we hide the data in loops. and 316, the update is so new that there aren’t any code patches to even earn yet. you should go down to gio’s.

316: gio’s? where is that even?

322: around neon valley. it’s a little rundown, little disgusting, but it gets the job done in a pinch.

309: yes. once you’re there get the mycellius motor mask, it’s physical remedy but it’ll work until the architects come out with the next code patch. don’t take no for an answer and don’t let them try to jack up the prices just ‘cause you’re a nicer model than their regulars. 

316: got it, thank you both — gonna log off now. time it just right so that i can go there before call time at the amphibian’s head, make tonight’s performance hopefully more bearable. 

314: bye babe! don’t forget to hide and store.

316: bye everyone. see you tonight. copy that, thanks for the reminder.

[signed off]

==19:44==

KANO316 heads down to Neon Valley district, taking care to have the location and route already clear in their mind. Usually they don’t go anywhere near the district, but necessities call for deviation. If they have to go down there, they’ll be as cautious as possible; they can’t afford to dent their skin or get kidnapped or robbed. Constellations above know what else happens down there. So that includes having a full grid of the district’s buildings, to prevent unnecessary halting in the street and signaling that they don’t belong. 

That also includes throwing on a hologram outfit, and a cheap piece of fabric to cover their hair treads. All their outfits made of real fabric are company costumes and too expensive to replace if damaged, and signify too-close-to-organics status besides. The cheap headscarf is just to deter prying eyes from seeing attachment treads for what can only be real synthetic hair. Too expensive for anyone who frequents shops in Neon Valley. KANO316 can’t begrudge people just trying to make a living, since their job is basically stealing from rich organics, but they also can’t afford to damage company property. Better not to provide temptation.

They make their way along the route, pick their way through rusted and cracked cobblestones. Crumbling infrastructure and peeling plaster form a sea of mildewed distastefulness, a far cry from their home district’s sleek exteriors. They’re just glad that the Architects gave their sense of smell an on/off switch.

Finally they find Gio’s tiny shop. Flickering above the entrance is a poorly lit sign bearing the word “Gio’s.” Past data indicates that the shop has stood for a good amount of time; it must have, if 309 and 322 were recommending it. It also indicates that the shop was once named “Gio’s and Etton’s.” An easy sell; they know this type of patron. Grieving but clinging onto work and comfortable schedules, even long past retirement or expiration. Put on a charming smile and demure expression, and remind him of his long lost partner or child, good times gone away. 

Nostalgia gets the job done 8 times out of 10. They blink, pulling the expression onto their face, before stepping through the curtains fluttering just past the little shop’s door.

There’s quite a few customers inside the shop, a tattered junk collector and a large mechanic-type perusing the shelves the most noticeable. An audience. KANO316 takes a customary sweep of the perimeter and contents of the store, then makes their first move.

“Hello? Mr. Gio?” they call in a voice that sounds like smoke, designed to sound soft but still carries throughout rooms. “I’m looking for the Mycellius Motor Mask? A few of my friends in the KANO line also come here from time to time, and they said it would do well for the new elongated leg physical update.”

A little old man, face a mass of wrinkles and scruffy beard, pops up from under the counter. “Ah, Ms. KANO. My deepest apologies, with the holidays coming around, folks have been snapping the Triple M off the shelf for friends and family. Saving up to give each other gifts, all about the spirit of things, you understand. The last one was bought just now.”

“Do you mean you have none left?” Pitch the voice higher, blink eyes and pout.

“I am so sorry. I’m fresh out, my dear, and I’m not getting the next shipment until next week,” says the man. “Is there anything else I can help you with? Your friend was right—Triple M is the best—but perhaps I can recommend a few substitutes?”

Don’t take no for an answer, whispers the warning reminder they’d set before leaving their apartment. The code sounds just like 309’s pattern imprint. They’ll try to gauge the prices just because you’re working for organics.

KANO316 refuses to look at the old man’s face. Probably the substitutes are cheaper materials and he hopes to make a profit by selling them for more than face value, or even shop value. They will not be taken advantage of. Avoid eye contact, keep posture open but commanding. Loom tall but not overbearing, firm but still sweet. Dart tongue out to wet lips, open mouth for rebuttal. “I—”

The bland hunk of metal standing a few feet away moves over to the counter suddenly, startling KANO316. “You can have this one.”

KANO316 stares at them, trying to process the situation and analyze the motives behind the gesture. Maybe this android is a stalker they haven’t noticed until now. Judging by their faded overalls, real fabric but too tattered to be any status symbol, they’re one of those nice backwater androids. They’d probably saved and scrimped to treat themselves to a club for one special night and had gotten obsessed with KANO316 then. Many do, wanting to feel like life in the Hub was justified, like they’re not trapped in an endless cycle of completing jobs for minimal reward. Maybe this android is one of the endless crowd trying to win KANO316 over by trying to ingratiate into their life, starting by acting nice every time the two of them ‘just so happen to run into each other.’ It’s happened before. 

The shopkeeper protests, perhaps at the hijacked sale. “Su, I—”

The other android — Su, KANO316 corrects themself — brushes the human off. “It’s not mine yet, Gio. I haven’t bought it.” They hand the bottle containing dark red fluid to KANO316 without even a flourish. “Go ahead. I get this stuff all the time; I can get something else. You need it more than me.”

KANO316’s mind whirs almost into overheating. They need this physrem to tide them over until the official code patch. But they also don’t need to deal with yet another overly affectionate patron.

No matter their feelings about the situation, they can’t refuse the offer. With the audience in the shop, they’d risk a rumor spreading, starting another round of accusations that KANO entertainers are ungracious and cold and inherently evil, even here, for accepting or not accepting a small favor. Company policy dictates a polite acceptance of all public gifts. Smile gently, nod, relax fingers and stance from the subtly defensive instinct within them. Brace for whatever proposal inevitably follows.

But Su simply presses the physrem into their hand and turns to peruse Gio’s aisles once more. This rules out all the other classes of creepy patrons. Maybe they really are just a very nice patron? But then again, even people in that category ask for something in return. Even the nicest patrons make something of their gifting. Appreciation, admiration, a smile from the pretty entertainer. Look how nice I am to you, tell me my gifts make you feel good and you think of me when you use it, prove to me that you were worth the gift. 

Su hadn’t done that. Just nodded and left. 

KANO316 thinks about it for a little bit longer while they head back to their apartment, confused, but they don’t have time to really mull it over. They press the red button and get off the Driver. As they walk closer to their apartment, the signs around them glow brighter and the hustle of the crowd gets louder, steam hissing from the sides of buildings and metal smoothing from rust to shine. The familiarity of the environment calls their attention away from the other android’s odd behavior and back to call time and set lists. Time to get ready for their next performance.